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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020620">The Color Of The Glass</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinister_Kid/pseuds/Sinister_Kid'>Sinister_Kid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Into The Light (Cole/Cullen Ficlets) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crushes, Feelings, Human Cole (Dragon Age), M/M, Metaphors, POV Cole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:13:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinister_Kid/pseuds/Sinister_Kid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen's face turns red, like the light through the stained glass window.</p><p>Cole wants to know why.</p><p>Cassandra helps him understand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cole/Cullen Rutherford</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Into The Light (Cole/Cullen Ficlets) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Color Of The Glass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>More confusing Cole/Cullen nonsense no one really asked for but everyone got anyway. :/</p><p>Also, there is actually no stained glass window in Cullen's office. I checked. But for the purpose of this fic, and its metaphor, Josephine put one in.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cole skipped across the courtyard, headed toward the little nook where Cassandra liked to sit and read Swords and Shields when she wasn’t fighting demons made of straw. Thoughts of Cullen swirling in his head. A reddened face, but no knowledge as to why it was that color. It was like the stained glass of the window in Cullen’s office, shining red light on Cole’s skin. He could see the color of it, but he couldn’t see what was on the other side of the glass.</p><p>He wanted to know what was on the other side of Cullen’s face, in his mind, when he blushed at Cole the way he did.</p><p>It was so confusing, and he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, now that he couldn’t peer inside someone’s head.</p><p>Cullen blushed sometimes when the Herald was near, and Cole could remember peaking in his mind once, when he was a spirit, to see him blush like that at the Hero of Ferelden. There was also the time he blushed at an errant comment Varric’s friend Hawke had made, and all the redness in his face when the Iron Bull said dirty things. Did Cullen blushing at Cole mean the same thing as it meant all the other times he did so? Or…was it <em>not</em> a blush at all?</p><p>
  <em>Redfaced, like wine stains on a carpet.</em>
</p><p>Cole had seen Cullen get belligerently mad, so mad that his face was red, before. But usually that shade of red came with yelling from his mouth and throwing things, like for example, his cup of wine that splashed on the carpet that one time he ever drank alcohol. No, this color wasn’t the same. This color came with biting his lip and rubbing his neck. Not anger. But something else. No one would know better of what it meant than Cassandra. </p><p>She knew a lot about blushing. She did it a lot when she read Swords and Shields because of what it made her think about. Like the Herald and Varric, Cassandra also liked Cole, only he confused her the most. Though not because she couldn’t understand what he was saying. </p><p>
  <em>‘I just wish the Kid wouldn’t speak in so many riddles.’…‘They’re not riddles, Varric, they’re metaphors. You of all people should know what those are.’…‘Yeah, but metaphors for what, exactly? That’s the puzzle, Seeker.’</em>
</p><p>She thought his words sounded pretty, like poetry. She liked poetry. </p><p>But what confused her about Cole had been her thoughts on him maybe being a demon. She didn’t know the difference and neither did Cole, and she didn’t know if he would hurt others like a demon. But she never minded if Cole could hear her pain, as long as he didn’t tell her what it sounded like. Hers was a bittersweet sorrow, that she remembered fondly. Hard, like stone, but floors were made of it and she needed it to stand on. </p><p>But Cole couldn’t hear the thump of a sound the bricks made anymore, and was too focused on the shade of red light refracting on the surface of his hand still to even listen, would that he could hear it. Cullen had given him the idea to talk about his <em>own</em> thoughts and feelings instead of others, and he really wanted to share them with Cassandra, because maybe she could help him figure out what it all meant. </p><p>“Red light reflecting on my skin,” he blurted out when he neared her, making her jolt. “Shining through the glass, it twists and turns, changes, but I don’t know what’s on the other side.”</p><p>“Maker! What...? Oh, hello Cole.”</p><p>“Hello,” he greeted. </p><p>“Is something bothering you?” she asked, closing her book and setting it aside. </p><p>“Yes,” he answered. “Cullen’s face, red like the light…Why does he blush whenever I’m near?”</p><p>Cassandra’s eyes widened and her brows went up. Cole studied her face carefully, judging her expressions, wondering if she understood. She’d obviously heard him, but did she know what he meant? Had he said it right? “Cullen blushes around you?” Cassandra asked, and Cole nodded. “Well, uh…erm, what did you say to him, exactly?” Cole wracked his brain, trying to remember.</p><p>“I told him his hands were warm.”</p><p>“My word,” Cassandra said, looking away, and now her face was red too. “Uhm, I fear I may need more context than that, because what I’m picturing surely can’t be right.”</p><p>Cole knelt at her feet, peering up at her closely from under his hat, and curiously asked, “What <em>do</em> you see? I can’t see it anymore, so you’ll have to tell me.”</p><p>“Uhm,” Cassandra touched the back of her head, smoothing a hand over the short hair on her neck. “Cole, were you in Cullen’s office today?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Did you speak to him?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Did you do anything else?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“...And that would be?”</p><p>“I looked at his face. I can’t hear him when he doesn’t speak.”</p><p>“Ah, I see. And were you this close to his face, just like you are with me right now?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Ah, alright then.” She made an ahem sound with her throat, leaning back a little. “And what was Cullen doing when you said his hands were warm?”</p><p>“Touching me?”</p><p>“Where exactly?” Cole stretched out his hands and cupped Cassandra’s shoulders just like Cullen did in his office to hold Cole back and keep him from getting too close to him. “And…was this all Cullen was doing when you said that?” Cole nodded. Cassandra relaxed her frame when she released a heavy breath, sighing. “Ah, good. I was worried he’d done something inappropriate. Not that I thought Cullen would, but…”</p><p>“But Cullen’s face changed color like the glass,” Cole said. “It turned red and I don’t know why. It does that sometimes when he talks to the Herald. <em>‘Pretty face, she looks so much like Amell’</em>. Only she doesn’t notice because she’s too busy thinking about how handsome Blackwall is, and he’s too busy feeling guilty to notice that she notices.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m well aware of the Inquisitor’s romantic feelings for Blackwall,” Cassandra said with a nod.</p><p>“But what about Cullen?” Cole asked. “Why does he do that when he looks at me? He’s not angry with me, is he? I don’t want him to be angry.”</p><p>Cassandra snorted a little. “I highly doubt that is the case,” she said. “It…<em>could</em> be that Cullen harbors somewhat of a crush on you, like he did the Inquisitor at first. You’re a very handsome young man, Cole. Obviously Cullen thinks so too.” </p><p>“A crush. Like the one the Knight-Captain had? <em>‘Crush, because it hurt like bricks dropped from a high window to be rejected’.</em>”</p><p>Cassandra chuckled. “Yes, Cole, that sort of crush.” </p><p><em>Oh</em>.</p><p>“Oh,” Cole echoed the thought aloud. Why didn’t Cullen tell him this then? Cole wasn’t Amell, and he wasn’t the Herald either. The Commander didn’t <em>have</em> to hide his feelings from Cole. He <em>wanted</em> to know what Cullen felt. Since he couldn’t hear his thoughts anymore, Cullen would have to speak what he was thinking to Cole, otherwise he would never know how to help Cullen. An ache began in his chest, thoughts reeling again.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Cassandra asked, as he’d fallen silent at her feet, thinking.</p><p>“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Cullen didn’t <em>want</em> me to know. That’s why he wouldn’t tell me.”</p><p>“In all likelihood, he didn’t wish to entertain any romantic feelings for you, or make you aware of them–much less <em>act</em> on those feelings–because such a thing is rather inappropriate.”</p><p>Cole furrowed his brow. Cassandra used that word a lot. Inappropriate. So did the Herald. <em>Not suitable or proper behavior</em>, they said it meant. Things people weren’t supposed to do, for whatever reason, because it was wrong to do them. But why was it wrong to have a crush on Cole? “Why is it wrong?” Cole asked Cassandra, desperately wanting to know and peering up at her with wide, curious eyes.</p><p>“I’m…not entirely sure that it <em>is</em> wrong,” she said. “But it’s certainly not wise. You were a spirit, and while you’re not necessarily a child by any means, your knowledge of the world is still largely limited by your understanding of it as a spirit, even though you’re now human. You might be older than all of us, who is to say really, but you’ve only been human for a matter of weeks, and in Cullen’s eyes, that makes you quite young.”</p><p>“But…I still don’t understand. I’m new, yes, I’m still me, but not quite the old me, something different, but why is it wrong for him to want to be close to me?”</p><p>“Because you’re far too young to understand what that means.”</p><p>“I know what a crush is. I understand <em>that</em>. So why am I not allowed to be crushed by someone?” Then he mumbled in afterthought, “It’s not like it really hurts. It’s not that kind of pain.”</p><p>“Are you…not bothered by what that might entail?” Cassandra asked. “You do realize we’re speaking of Cullen having thoughts of you of a…of a very <em>grown-up</em> nature, Cole.”</p><p>Cole frowned. “I know what sex is,” he huffed, a strand of hair dancing across his face when he breathed. Cassandra lifted a brow. “I know what lovers do. That’s what it means.”</p><p>“Yes,” More throat clearing, “Well, you behave as if you haven’t a clue that Cullen feels that way about you, and it’s rather disconcerting.”</p><p>Cole’s frown only deepened. “I…couldn’t be sure. He’s so quiet now. I couldn’t see clearly through the glass. Too many colors. But now I know.”</p><p>“...<em>And</em>?”</p><p>Cole leaned his head to the side, quirking a brow in confusion.</p><p>“I don’t know…” </p><p>“Cole, what does it make you feel?”</p><p>“Fuzzy…like the glass is breaking, but there’s still only nothingness behind it.”</p><p>Cassandra sucked in another deep breath. “Maker, this is starting to give me a headache. I suppose I should have been more specific in my asking. Alright then, what do you feel–you <em>yourself–</em>feel when you think of Cullen?” Cole thought for a moment.</p><p>“Warm and bright,” he answered, a smirk playing at his lips like the one Cullen had. “Safe.”</p><p>“Those don’t sound like very romantic feelings. You could feel those things with <em>anyone</em> you view as a friend. They’re not feelings that are limited to someone you might fall in love with. Do you understand that? The difference? Between feeling safe, and feeling loved?”</p><p>“But <em>he</em> made you feel safe,” Cole murmured. “He trusted you, and you trusted him, even though he was a mage. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, and you <em>loved</em> him.”</p><p>Cassandra leaned back and looked down at him, furrowing her brow, eyeing him carefully like she was trying to search out his thoughts through his face just like Cole was now forced to do…<em>Ah, now I understand. Empathy. This is what it’s like for everyone else, isn’t it? Not knowing and only guessing.</em> Cassandra’s eyes darted over his face, chasing his emotions. “Are you saying that you…could one day feel the same about Cullen that I felt for…<em>him</em>?”</p><p>Cole thought about it. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried. But I could learn.”</p><p>“Do you truly <em>want</em> to, Cole?”</p><p>Good question. <em>Did</em> he want to? Cole couldn’t rightly be sure. All he knew was that he’d been so desperate to know what Cullen had been feeling, so that he might help him. Was that…<em>not</em> something he should want? To make Cullen feel safe, and happy? To clear away the cobwebs and the dust in the darkness and light a candle in Cullen’s mind? To finally thwart that evil, wicked monster Uldred once and for all? To help him heal?</p><p>Should there be <em>other</em> things he wanted instead?</p><p>“I…don’t know. I just…I want to help him. But it’s hard, because I can't hear his pain anymore.”</p><p>“Well, perhaps you should consider the reason <em>why</em> you want to help him Cole. If it’s only because helping is all you know how to do, because it’s all you did as a spirit, or…if it’s <em>more</em> than that.”</p><p>Yes. Yes, that sounded like a good idea. Cole nodded. “I’ll try that then,” he agreed.</p><p>“And…if I <em>might</em> make a suggestion,” Cassandra said next. Cole listened aptly. “Perhaps don’t put your face so close to someone else’s?”</p><p>“But I have to <em>see</em> it,” he complained. “I can’t hear you if I don’t.”</p><p>“Alright, let me, erm, let me see if I can decipher that,” she said, tapping her chin. She looked him over. “You used to <em>listen</em> to a person’s pain, yes? So you didn’t need to see their face to know what they were thinking or feeling. But now you can’t, so you must completely rely on their words and expressions on their face to know what they’re feeling.” Cole brightened. Yes! Yes that was it, perfectly! Exactly it. He nodded. “Well, you could see them better without this.”</p><p>She gently plucked the hat from his head, making him flinch a little. Then she smoothed the hair away from his face. He never even noticed it before. He felt silly now that he had. Of course! He couldn’t see clearly because his hair was in his face, covering his eyes. Once she fixed it on his head, he could see her much better, every little quirk of movement on her own face, without having to peer so closely at her. “That’s much better,” he smiled. “Thank you. It helps.”</p><p>Cassandra smiled. “I’m glad. And I’m guessing that a lot of people would enjoy seeing more of that handsome face as well.” Cole leaned back on his calves and watched as Cassandra gabbed her book. “Would you like for me to read to you?”</p><p>“If…that would also help?”</p><p>“Well, I don’t suppose it could hurt.”</p>
<hr/><p>Cole had fallen asleep listening to Cassandra reread the latest chapter of Swords and Shields for the umpteenth time. It wasn’t the same as the voice in her head reading it. She heard <em>their</em> voices. The people in the book. But hearing her own voice say the words on the paper was still pleasant. It sounded like a harpsichord. Pinched, but in tune, and the soothing melody lulled Cole to sleep there in the grass by the armory.</p><p>When he woke, he found himself alone. He’d had a dream about the book, but in it he saw Cullen’s face and heard Cullen’s words. <em>Dreams made so much more sense when they were someone else’s</em>. Cole stretched and plucked his hat from the ground, but he didn’t put it on his head. It felt odd. Hats liked being on heads. But this hat had been keeping his hair in his eyes and he couldn’t see with it on. Maybe someone else would like it better?</p><p>The wind tousled his hair as he flitted to the set of steps that would lead to the battlements, and the walkway that ended at Cullen’s office. He’d thought about what Cassandra said. About <em>why</em> he wanted to help Cullen. He didn’t really know if it was the right reason or not, but he knew it was different than the others. That much was true. With others, helping just felt…<em>right</em>. But with Cullen, it felt…<em>more</em>. More than just knowing he helped.</p><p>More than just doing something nice, for someone he cared about. It was like the stained glass window. The light on the floor. The touch of Cullen’s hand. Just a warm feeling deep inside him that grew bigger and bigger each time Cullen smiled. It made his chest tighten and his stomach do flips inside, but he liked it. His heart drummed in his chest. <em>Badump, badump, badump</em>. Every time Cullen let a little more of that fear and doubt slip from his shoulders.</p><p>It drowned out the silence in Cole’s ears, and filled him with sound. Just like Maryden’s lute, Cullen took the hole in his rib cage and filled the nothingness with…<em>something</em>. But were those feelings truly, as Cassandra would say, ‘romantic’? Was it the same thing as falling in love? Sometimes love caused more hurt inside than knives and arrows. It was a different kind of ache, a soreness of the spirit, rather than the body, but Cole still heard it just the same.</p><p>And Cole had always dreaded feeling such a thing if it was that painful, until he learned there were different kinds of love than the sort he felt in others. He learned that sometimes love could heal people. It mended all the little tears that other things couldn’t, stitched them up with little threads of light. It glowed inside someone’s chest like starlight and fireflies. It was pretty…but Cole could never touch it. He wasn’t that kind of spirit.</p><p>But now that he was human, did that mean one day he too would be lit up like the stars with all that light? And could it ever be Cullen that made him feel all those things? As the Herald would say, “There’s only one way to find out.” So Cole rushed up the steps and across the ramparts to Cullen’s office, and was about to burst into the room, when he heard voices on the other side of the door. Cullen’s and Cassandra’s voices, to be exact.</p><p>Cole paused, pressing his ear to the door to listen.</p><p>“–The way he speaks, Cassandra,” Cullen had been saying. “He sounds just like a <em>child</em>. How could I ever view at him as anything else.”</p><p>“But he’s <em>not</em> a child, Cullen,” Cassandra responded, sounding like she wore her stern face. “It’s true that he speaks in ways we don’t quite understand, but he is more capable than he seems. And if he suspects that his feelings for you are in any way romantic in nature, he will look for more than friendship. If you only ignore your own feelings for him and reject him, he’ll be deeply hurt by this as well, and it will only make matters worse.”</p><p>“So you would have me pursue him then? Are you mad?!”</p><p>“I’m not suggesting that. I only thought it would be best to bring it to your attention so that you are aware, and caution you to tread delicately, no matter what you choose to do. Cole is very a sweet young man. I do consider you a friend, Cullen, and I want you to be happy, but not at the cost of Cole’s emotion’s. A childlike as he might seem, he is <em>not</em> a toy in a sandbox to be played with and discarded when you don’t need him.”</p><p>“I wasn’t thinking that,” Cullen swore. Of course he wasn’t, and he <em>wouldn’t</em>. Demons played with him and discarded him like a pretty little toy. He would <em>never</em> do that. Cullen echoed Cole’s thoughts with, “I would <em>never</em> do that to Cole.”</p><p>“I would hope. I shall let you return to your duties. We’ll speak later.”</p><p>Cole swallowed the lump stuck in his throat, but it refused to go down. He foolishly stayed in front of the door instead of hiding when Cassandra opened it, and he stumbled into the room, clutching his hat still. <em>Uh oh</em>, he thought. <em>Varric told me it was rude to eavesdrop</em>. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. At the same time Cassandra was exclaiming, “Cole!” He lifted his head and brushed his hair from his face to see Cullen staring, all the color drained from his face.</p><p>“I…suppose the two of you have some talking to do,” Cassandra said, excusing herself from the room and shutting the door behind her.</p><p>Alone with Cullen again. He…<em>felt</em> so many things at the moment, and they crawled over his skin like jittery ants. It was all he could do to keep from turning and running. Cole sucked in a breath and let it out slow, releasing all the tension in his body with it, like diving into water. At the moment, he knew two things. One: that Cullen didn’t understand him. And two: that Cole <em>needed</em> him to understand. That they <em>weren’t</em> so different. Not really. Cole knew that now.</p><p>Ever since he’d made the choice that made him more human, all he could think about was the silence that fell around him. He’d never thought of how <em>others</em> felt that same quiet that had settled over Cole, and how it probably confused them too. To see a person, but not hear them in such a way. He’d been so caught up with how the light touched his hand that he’d never thought Cullen’s hand was reaching for that same red color. Searching, but not finding.</p><p><em>Empathy</em>.</p><p>“I…I wanted to tell you,” he began, smoothing his hair away a second time, just to be sure Cullen’s face was there. “That…that I understand now.”</p><p>Cullen shifted his weight onto one foot, his hand ever resting on the pommel of his blade. “Understand what, exactly?” he asked.</p><p>“The red, on the…carpet? No. No not the carpet, that’s wrong. It was…the light. Yes, that’s what it was. You look at the light too, and you don’t see anything behind it either.”</p><p>“Maker’s breath. What does that mean?”</p><p>It meant that Cullen only heard his words, and what he heard sounded like a child. He couldn't <em>see</em> the otther side. He was too distracted by the color. It was too new. Too bright. But Cole was <em>not</em> a child.</p><p>Cole turned to the stained glass window nearby and walked toward it, stopping when he was close enough to touch. Cullen followed, watching him curiously as he reached up to touch the red panel of the window. Then he cupped his hands so that the red glow from the glass poured into his hands, like water filling a cup. “Cheeks the color of the glass, warm light falling onto your hands, twisting, changing. But bright. You…can’t see the light on the other side, only hear the colors.”</p><p>Cullen sighed beside him. “Cassandra, she…she came to tell me about what you spoke of earlier. How you were trying to figure out why I was…uhm…does this maybe have something to do with that?”</p><p>“Yes,” Cole answered. “I couldn’t see what was behind the colors. My…my <em>words</em>, they…they don’t sound the same as the light behind them. When they come out, they’re different than the colors you touch. But we’re the <em>same</em>. We both hide the light behind the glass, and it glows. Like starlight.” He let the light fall from his hands, and looked up at Cullen’s face. Eyes searching for meaning. He said everything he felt, but Cullen still didn’t understand, it seemed.</p><p>“You can’t <em>see</em> inside me either,” he continued, hoping to see recognition. “You only hear what I <em>say</em>. You don’t know what it means though. You don’t understand. We’re both light and sound, but I’m a drum beaten and you’re…a lute. They both make music, but…they’re different sounds.”</p><p>“Are you by chance trying to tell me that the words that come out of your mouth aren’t quite the same as they sound in your head?” Cullen asked, and Cole exhaled in relief.</p><p>“<em>That</em>,” he said. “They make sense to me, but not to you. You were <em>born</em> knowing how to speak without the sounds of others in your head. I…wasn’t.” Cole turned back to the window. “Cole…the <em>other</em> Cole, you would have liked him better. He was the same. A lute, though he played a different tune than your own song. His was lonely and sad. Yours is bitter. But you were both trapped. He would have known how to make you happy. I…don’t.”</p><p>Cullen placed a hand on his shoulder, and Cole was flooded with warmth again. “It’s…it’s alright, Cole, you don’t,” he measured a breath, “You don’t have to try to be like the real Cole you impersonated. That’s not what it means to be human. You’re, well, you’re <em>you</em>, as you would say. You can be your own person, and I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to be something else. That was not my intent. You’re confusing, but…you’re fine the way you are.”</p><p>“But you don’t like <em>me</em>.”</p><p>“I…I <em>do</em> like you Cole. Believe me, I like you just fine. But…it’s up to <em>you</em> as to what that means for you.”</p><p>“...Alright,” Cole hesitantly agreed.</p><p>Cullen’s hand dropped and the warmth went away, but Cole could still feel it in his chest as he turned back to the ever changing color of the glass.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Still no shame here.</p><p>(Although I admit writing this did give me a headache. Worth it though)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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